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Zendaya was currently standing in front of her friend's apartment complex. As she stared up at the tall building, the only thought going through her mind was that her friend needed her right now.
The friend she worked on a film with.
The friend who had a bad past with relationships.
Taking in a deep breath, she entered the building, and went straight to the 12th floor.
Opening the door to apartment no. 1206, the actress was met with a horrible sight.
Several bottles of alcohol splayed out on the floor, some upright, some not. Flowers were laying on the ground, broken. Several photo frames had been violently thrown, glass shards decorating the tiles. There were noises coming from Alex's room. Noises of......laughter. But not genuine laughter, no. It sounded more....fake.
Carefully maneuvering around the mess that was Alexander's living room, glass scrunching underneath her sneakers, she made her way to the actor's room.
Opening the door, she was met with darkness, the only light coming from the television, an episode of friends playing.
The light showed the bed, the sheets torn apart. All the books were taken from the shelves and thrown to the ground, pages torn out.
Alex loved books.
Speaking of whom, the actor was currently sitting on the ground, using the bed as a backrest. He was wearing shades, and eating a pepperoni pizza, BY FOLDING IT. The sauce was dripping from his fingers. There were dry tear stains on his cheeks. He had been crying, but currently his face looked devoid of any emotion, apart from the occasional dry chuckle that left his mouth.
There was also a faint smell of pule coming from the bathroom.
He had noticed Zendaya's presence, but didn't raise his head to meet hers. Except, he just raised the pizza box, as if offering it.
